


To Kick a Little Ass for Myself

by justaphage (DancingDragon42)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU: Ghost Army, AU: No Serum, Artist!Steve, Deception, Established Relationship, M/M, Some sexist/homophobic comments by side character, World War II, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingDragon42/pseuds/justaphage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when Steve has nearly given up on ever serving, a recruiter shows up with a mysterious offer to use his artistic talents in the Army.  With little more information, he ships out to join the division that would become known as the Ghost Army. After all, he’s said he would lay down his life for his country, even if he had been expecting Uncle Sam to back him up with a bit more than blow-up tanks and an audio recording of troop movements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of work from a lot of people goes into getting a Big Bang fic together!
> 
> Artwork in this chapter is from Justgot1, you should find her on [tumblr](http://justgot1.tumblr.com/) and check out the [AO3 work](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7333537/chapters/16658824) with everything she's doing for the Bang.
> 
> Additional awesome artwork is from [naomilasenby](http://naomilasenby.tumblr.com/), located [here!](http://naomilasenby.tumblr.com/image/149646848054)
> 
> Thanks to [Zwaluw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwaluw/works) for the content beta, and [doublenegative](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doublenegative/works), for the spelling/grammar check after I wouldn't stop whining about doing it myself. Also, thanks to the rest of the Antidiogenes chat for encouragement/putting up with me along the way!

It started where he’d least expected it, in art class.

One day, about ten minutes in, Steve noticed a man he’d never seen before circulating behind the easels with their teacher. “As you can see, most of the men have already joined up,” their teacher was saying as he gestured to the overabundance of women in the room.

Steve tracked the stranger with suspicion as he moved through the room. The man didn’t look much like a recruiter with his greying beard and ill-fitting tweed suit, but the Army was the only cause for the absence of men in this class. If that was the case, things must have been getting desperate for him to be trying to round up guys from an art class.

As Steve watched out of the corner of his eye, the stranger’s glasses-rimmed eyes settled on him and Buck. “It seems you still have a few left.”

Caught out, Steve focused his gaze back on his work, but put his best effort into picking up what his bad ears could from the conversation. Fortunately, the pair was headed towards them now.

“Well,” his instructor was saying, “Rogers here is probably your best option.”

His head involuntarily snapped over at that; people rarely described him as the best anything. Steve had been trying every chance he got to join up like the rest of the guys, especially now that Bucky would be gone soon. If this could be his chance...his heart rate picked up.

“He’s a standout student, and real gung-ho about the war effort, just hasn’t found anyone to take him yet.”

That was the real problem, Steve thought. No matter what this guy was looking for, he was probably going to have to pass that same damn physical he’d failed over and over. This ought not to get his hopes up again. He tamped down on his momentary excitement, but he couldn’t ignore the recruiter who was now standing at his easel.

“We do have a different set of priorities from most units.” The recruiter’s eyes settled on Steve with a slight smile. “So Mr. Rogers, you want to kill Nazis?”

It was an odd question. He supposed a typical military man would expect Steve to say yes, but this man didn’t look that. Was he looking for someone to sit around an office painting propaganda, and so hoping Steve would say no? The man’s expectant face gave no hint, so Steve went for the truth.

“I don’t want to kill anyone. Just don’t like bullies, doesn’t matter where they’re from.” Steve watched as the man merely nodded, then looked over his work. Still, nothing gave away his intentions.

Most of the class was following their interaction by now, some more surreptitiously than others. The moment seemed to stretch on as Steve’s anxiety built. His previous rejections had been relatively private, but if he was judged lacking here, it would be mortifyingly public.

But when he did finally speak, the recruiter was apparently satisfied with what he saw.

“There may be a place for you with us, Mr. Rogers.” He pulled a card from his pocket and extended it to Steve. “You can come by this address to fill out an application. You’ll have to leave a small portfolio—four or five pieces—landscapes are preferred, but anything showing the attention to detail you have here would certainly be suitable. We’ll get them back to you with a reply within two weeks.”

Steve struggled to keep his hand from shaking as he reached for the card, then looked over at a dumbfounded Bucky. It was about how Steve felt himself, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity, even a strange one, to wash off the shame of all those damn 4F stamps.

“I’ll be there,” Steve paused to check the name on the card in his hand, “Dr. Erskine, sir, but how about my friend James Barnes here, too?” If he was going to meet with some shadowy government agency that recruited at art schools, might as well have Bucky along for the ride. “He’s enlisted already, but he doesn’t have his orders yet.”

Erskine shrugged then advanced to look at Bucky’s easel. Immediately, his eyes widened.

Oh, Lord.

Steve fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. Bucky was actually a pretty good artist when he tried, but he didn’t always take class seriously. Of course he had to pick today to goof off.

With a shit-eating grin, Bucky turned his work to reveal that he had drawn the model with the approximate skill of a toddler, but with massive breasts and a speech bubble only appropriate for blue pages.

“I think, James,” Erskine said with a suppressed laugh, “you are best suited to the conventional forces.”

xxx

It was hard to focus on the rest of class with a mystery like that hanging over their heads. As soon as they stepped outside Bucky said, “What do you s’pose that was about?”

“I dunno. Thought maybe painting posters, but why only fellas then? An’ he coulda just said that. War posters ain’t no great secret.”

Bucky shrugged. “Guess you’ll just have to find out”

“You’d know yourself if you hadn’t been messing around in class again.”

“C’mon Stevie,” Bucky reached to sling his arm around his shoulders, but he ducked out of it, “don’t be like that.”

“I don’t to why you come down here, if you’re not gonna take the class seriously.”

“You _know_ why I come with you.” Bucky dropped his voice low and made another grab for Steve, this time trying to corral him back into an alley.

“ _Quit it, Buck._ We’re in public,” Steve hissed through his teeth. He tried to put some distance between them too, because Bucky was still smiling that troublesome smile.

“No one’ll bother us in this neighborhood. C’mere—I’m happy for you.”

“No, Bucky.” Steve would like to have been happy too, but sometimes he just got so frustrated with how Bucky never took a single damn thing seriously. “No one will bother _you._ I however, would like to be able to get to work without—“

“Who’s been after you? The Boyle kid again? I swear I oughta—”

“No—no one more than usual. But ‘s not going to stay that way if you can’t keep a lid on it when we’re out.” Steve glared over at Bucky, who worked his jaw, but didn’t say anything in return. “And you comin’ rushing to my defense all the time doesn’t exactly help matters. I can take care of myself.”

Bucky let out a mocking little huff. “Sure ya can, Rogers.”

Well, that was about enough. Steve picked up his pace and didn’t say anything the rest of the way home.

They both trudged up to their apartment with a bit more stomping than usual. When Bucky slammed the door behind them, Steve couldn’t take being shut up in this little space together right now. He brushed through the door past Bucky with a grumbled ‘back in a bit,’ and shut himself in the hall bathroom.

Nothing was ever easy for him, and _everything_ was easy for Bucky Barnes. Healthy body and a family that was still around to look out for him, not to mention a face that turned heads. Plus, this thing between them was making him cocky and acting the way he did could get them in trouble with more than just the local meatheads. Maybe it was just as well they would be going to separate units.

The second he thought that though, Steve felt a bit nauseated. Not that he wanted to see Buck get shot at, but it would sure be better than hearing about it happening three countries away. If he had just—

“Dammit, Buck!” He pounded his fist against the sink. They were just going to have to live with it now and Steve was going to have to get out of the damn bathroom before their neighbors complained.

He splashed water on his face, then grumbled his way back across the hall. Bucky was sitting hunched at their little table in the kitchen, his back to the door. From closer, Steve saw he was clutching an envelope, his gaze unfocused.

“So you did get your orders?”

Bucky scrubbed his hand over his face, “Yeah, this morning. Was gonna tell you, I just wanted to…” His eyes drifted back to the letter with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, and my temper mucked it up again.” Steve started working his thumbs into the knots in Bucky’s shoulders. He wasn’t about to apologize for being right earlier, but he knew how to create a distraction. “You deserve to enjoy your last few days stateside, Buck.”

“Oh yeah, Stevie? How you going to make that happen?” From Bucky’s smirk, Steve could tell it was working.

“Don’t think you oughta get all the attention, though. You won’t be here to send me off.”

“Aw, c’mon. Do I ever leave ya hanging?” Bucky pushed back from the table to snag Steve by the hips and pulled him into his lap.

He barely huffed out ‘you’d better not,” before Bucky crushed their lips together, running his hands over Steve like was going to prove it.

xxx

Steve did manage to be nice for about a day, until dropping off his application the next morning reminded him of their impending separation. He and Bucky were right back to sniping at each other. That didn’t exactly stop them from making time though; it was just the way they interacted. Conflict was really more of a fuel than a hindrance for them, anyhow.

That kept him distracted enough for the week, but now Bucky was shipping out tomorrow, and he was about to find out his own future. The message Dr. Erskine had sent hadn’t said anything about if he’d been accepted or rejected, just to come down for a meeting and to pick up his portfolio.

The appointment was during work hours, and while keeping a job had gotten easier with so many men overseas, it still made Steve a bit uneasy. He certainly hoped he wasn’t dragging himself over here to get a rejection, for all he had lost half a day’s pay plus train fare.

However, it was hard to be optimistic about it when every other one of Steve’s attempts had ended in failure. Honestly, if it weren’t for his portfolio, he might not have gone back at all. He didn’t want to hear Bucky say again that he was better off, safer, at home—it might come to blows this time if he did.

Steve tried to tamp down on his anger as he came up from the subway into the stale air of Manhattan, and walked towards his destination. On the slim chance that he would be accepted, he needed to put on a good face.

The building was the same one where he’d applied, imposing brick, a few blocks from the station. Inside, the lobby bustled with people in uniform and business attire alike. However, this time, instead of going straight back to recruitment, he crammed himself on to the elevator and rode up to the sixth floor.

When he stepped off, he was faced immediately with an office that said “Office of Personnel, 23rd Headquarters Special Troops.”

It looked official enough, he supposed, even if he’d never heard of it. Most guys from their neighborhood had been assigned to the 107th, unless they had a special skill. Steve had never expected _painting_ to be the kind of skill that got you that, but maybe it was? This whole thing still seemed impossible, but a small part of him was holding onto the tiny possibility that it was crazy enough to work.

Erskine’s name was not listed on the outside, but a secretary pointed him to a room down the hall with the door ajar. Steve walked back, knocked on the doorframe, and the strange man from his art class waved him in.

“So,” Erskine said from behind a stack of folders, “Steve Rogers, of Brooklyn, or is it—“He paused to flip open one of the folders, “New Haven, Paramus—”

A chill shot up Steve’s spine like he’d jumped in the Atlantic in March. It suddenly occurred to him that there might have been a _different_ _reason_ the message had not specified accepted or rejected.

“Sir, there must be some mistake...” Steve started, stepping backwards towards the hall. Had he been summoned here just to be arrested?

Before he could fully flee though, Erskine waved his hand dismissively. “Never mind that, Steven, I am merely impressed at your determination. Please come in, have a seat.”

With the threat of arrest seemingly past, Steve stepped back to the office and lowered himself into the chair with trepidation. Erskine was still examining the folder which must have included his multiple rejected enlistment forms along with his application.

“Well, your portfolio was quite well received, and your application is otherwise impeccable, but your health is still a concern. Tell me, does your asthma still trouble you much?”

“No, sir,” Steve said, and for all his other ailments, at least that much was true.“It seems I’ve mostly grown out of it.”

“Yes, that is often the way of it.” Erskine nodded, but seemed to still be considering.

None of this should have mattered; Steve could _manage._ He’d been managing for years, working twice as hard as everyone else and fighting off boys twice his size. He could fight the same as any other guy.

“I _can_ do this, sir,” Steve pressed.

“Very well then,” Erskine replied with a small smile. “I can offer you a chance. If you can manage to survive basic with all of this,” he gestured to the file, “I think you will be an excellent fit for us.”

“I’ll take that chance. You won’t regret it.” Steve found himself fighting a smile—this was really happening. It would be tough to get through basic, but he was one step closer than he’d ever been. Things were finally coming into place, except—

“Sir, if you don’t mind, what exactly _are_ you looking for here? What would I be doing?’

“Ah yes, that is a good question, young man. But—I’m afraid I there’s not much I can say until you ship out. It is with the camouflage division, but the rest is strictly classified until you’ve completed your training. You’ve passed the needed background check though. So, Mr. Rogers, are you ready to serve your country?”

Steve considered for a moment, but there was really only one way this could go. Watching all the other men leave had been humiliating enough, and soon Bucky would not be around to distract him either. Classified meant important. He could contribute, and not by collecting scrap like a child.

He stood up, held himself as straight and tall as he could and said, “Where do I sign?”

xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's got his work cut out for him if he wants to make it through training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where we get some sexist and homophobic remarks from the minor nemesis, Hodge, so be aware if that is an issue for you. That crap won't be appearing in any later chapters.
> 
> This chapter was NOT beta'd by anyone because I am too slow, so direct all your complaints to me alone :-)
> 
> Wonderful art here is from [ justgot1 ](http://justgot1.tumblr.com/)

The first few weeks of Basic did just about kill Steve, even though they were taking the afternoons out to learn to paint camo patterns on trucks and hide artillery with branches. If asked, he might have to admit he wouldn’t have made it through in a standard unit, but no one asked, so he counted himself lucky.

Now though, he was in about the best shape he had been in his life. Three squares a day, air that wasn’t mostly soot, some regular exercise, and suddenly he felt almost super-human. Compared to most of the other guys, that was obviously, hilariously, not the case, but it was nice to look at himself and see more than bones.

He’d never have the fastest mile or the most push-ups, but he could hide tanks with the best of them. Steve could only hope that would be what mattered. Word was the war was picking up and the US was going to need all the men they could get in Europe; maybe even the “scrawniest guy to ever sneak through medical,” as Phillips had put it when he showed up for roll call the first day. 

Steve didn’t imagine that painting trucks and making camouflage nets warranted the secrecy Erskine had implied when he was recruited. So far, they’d received no indication of what else they might do, but most of the guys agreed they would have a different mission by the time they shipped out. 

The theories as to what that was ran a bit wild. Whatever it turned out to be, Steve was mostly trying to ensure he went with them when they did. This particular morning, that was going well; he was on his fourth truck of the day and all of the others were on their third. 

Working double-time also helped keep his mind from drifting to Bucky and the fact that he hadn’t gotten a letter in almost a month now. He told himself that it was just too busy on the front, put his brush to the metal, and held his worry at bay.

Around the middle of his fifth truck, a shout snapped him out of his determined lack of thoughts. “Rogers, leave the truck and fall in—Brass is here with new orders.”

This could be it; they might finally get to do something. Steve eagerly left the brush he was using to mark off sections on the vehicle and slid off the roof. It was a testament to his improved health that he wasn’t even the last one into formation. Not that it stopped Hodge from muttering ‘hurry it up pansy’ under his breath as Steve passed. 

Unfortunately, in the Army, punching bullies in your own ranks tended to get you scrubbing floors with a toothbrush. Frankly, Bucky probably would be astounded Steve had only been forced to do that twice with all the crap heaped on him and the other art school recruits. But his body wasn’t his own to get beat up anymore, he needed it in its best possible shape to defend his country. Taking on assholes like Hodge would have to wait.

Anyways there wasn’t time to get into it right then, as Phillips arrived and they all snapped to attention.

“I know it’s become a bit of a pastime in this unit, speculating about the nature of our mission, given the secrecy with which most of you were recruited. From now on, that discretion is absolutely critical.”

Everyone had the discipline to keep silent, but the men’s eyes darted about, searching for an explanation.

“Our mission is to take camoflauge beyond hiding what is there and on to tricking the Germans into seeing what isn’t really there. If it works right—well, let’s say many of you may not be coming back.” 

That did start up some murmuring, but Steve, he was rapt.

“The British have been trying something similar, but together we’re going to take it to a whole new scale. These agents are here from the Strategic Scientific Reserve to help coordinate our efforts with the other Allies.” Phillips gestured to his side and a group of two men and a woman stepped forward.

“Over the next few weeks you will learn their tactics as well as developing your own with our new equipment. This is what Army wanted you here for; put those artist’s eyes to work. After that, some of you will remain assigned here for production, and the rest will be shipping out to pull a fast one on ol’ Hitler.”

Phillips sent them off with pamphlets and an order to report for training the next morning with all of the reading completed.

Around him the others were lingering and talking excitedly over the news, but Steve headed straight for his barracks. This could be good for him if he played it right. He didn’t think any of the men’s crazy theories had included making the enemy into seeing things that weren’t there, but it was a task that relied more on cunning than brute force. He might just might have a chance of getting assigned for deployment. 

xxx

Steve did manage to get through a good portion of the reading before Kelly came bustling in ahead of most of his other bunkmates. Ellsworth Kelly was a few years younger than him, though, of course, taller. When they’d met, Kelly had said Steve’s accent reminded him of good times in art school. People didn’t usually wax poetic about a lowly Brooklyn accent, and Steve had said as much, unsure if he should be defensive. Kelly had laughed and asserted an artist could wax poetic about whatever he damn well pleased, then launched into stories of his time at the Pratt.

So, Steve had taken him at his word, and they’d gotten on well. It certainly wasn’t like having Buck around, in any sense, but it was good at least not to hate the guys you had to sleep next to every night.

“Hey, Rogers, this where you’ve been? They give us time free and you hole up reading?” Kelly chuckled as he plopped down onto his bunk opposite Steve.

“Well, I figured the reading was why they let us off regular duties, so…”

“Always the good soldier this one, the rest of us’ll probably be hiding under our sheets reading with our flashlights to get it done,” Kelly replied and clapped him heavily on the shoulder. “I’ve got some more reading for you if that’s all you wanna do today—mail’s here.”

He handed over a single letter and Steve tried to restrain himself from snatching it up. 

“That from your girl or something?”

Kelly must not have looked too closely at the envelope, which was postmarked from within the Army and worn from the long trip. Steve found himself running a finger along those creases and wondering if Bucky had carried in in his pocket for some time before he sent it.

“No, just...” Steve snapped himself out of the sudden longing before he gave himself away. “Just an old pal from home, but I’ve been worried. He’s on the front and I hadn’t heard from him in a while.”

It seemed that was good enough explanation to Kelly, who nodded and asked, “do you want to read it now, or you gonna actually take a break and get out of this pile of bricks for a bit with the rest of us?”

Steve really did want to read it now, but it was no good with everyone milling around and possibly reading over his shoulder. He didn’t know what Bucky would put in a letter, but it was best not to risk it.

Instead he said, “Nah, he’s alright if he’s been writing me, I’ll get to it when you guys are catching up to me tonight. ” One of the guys had produced a football from somewhere, but others were holding their sketchbooks. So, Steve grabbed his and tucked a bit of the reading into it as well. He was slower than almost all of them on a good day; he couldn’t afford to give up sleep if he wanted to stand out.

Still, when he and the others not throwing the ball around climbed up the embankment overlooking the field and settled into the late afternoon sunlight, he was glad to be out. He sketched lazily, stretched out in the grass, enjoying the rare reprieve and the promise of Bucky’s letter tucked away in his bunk.

xxx

The set up when they came out for training the next morning was really something. Closest to them, an M4 tank was parked next to an inflatable imitation of itself, the same in size and rough shape, but entirely grass-green. Behind that, the field was full of what Steve guessed were more of the dummy tanks, but deflated.

The agents Phillips had introduced to them yesterday came out to meet them, the woman in the lead. She would have turned a lot of heads even if she wasn’t the only woman on base. Everything about her was crisp, from the collar of her uniform, to her neat red curls and the perfect line of her lipstick. 

She called for Attention and they all snapped to. Steve had found that most of the officers held their authority by shouting, but this woman somehow exuded it. It was hard to pinpoint the particular cause, but even her fellow agents were defferentially attentive. He wondered how much a woman must have done to earn that kind of respect. She probably had some impressive stories.

“Good morning, men. I am agent Carter, and these are Agents Falsworth and Pinkerton. As I am sure you all read last night, Allied military deception employs a variety of tactics including a number of pieces of decoy equipment.”

Her look as she surveyed the men suggested she was well aware some of them had fallen asleep with their pamphlets fallen on their faces while others had ignored them entirely. For his part, Steve had managed to finish them, even though he’d been distracted by Bucky’s letter. There hadn’t been much to it honestly, a few tales of antics and an assurance that he still had all his limbs, but he’d still read it four times. 

“This morning’s focus will be the staging of these tank decoys. Falsworth and Pinkerton will instruct you, then you will practice until you can do so rapidly. A partially inflated tank is a dead giveaway in the field.” She gave them a last appraising look, then slapped her clipboard and said, “get to it.”

They did, watching the agents’ instruction, then splitting into teams to practice. Getting the dummies up wasn’t as simple as attaching the pump and waiting. Each one had a separate base and gun portion, and smaller sections had to be held up during inflation or else they would fold down and not fill. Each team filled theirs with the gas pump, deflated it, folded it up for storage, then opened it back up and did the whole thing again a few times, before switching to bicycle pumps.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired just from this ladies!” Agent Carter shouted right as Hodge paused to gasp in the midst of his turn at his team’s pump. Steve didn’t really have the right since he wasn’t doing anything more difficult than holding out the inflatable gun barrel at the time, but the guy at their pump, who apparently liked to go by “Dum Dum”, snickered while keeping up his own pace. 

“Equipment breaks in the field, and petrol is scarce. Sometimes you might have nothing but your own lungs. Keep at it.”

steve hadn’t been one for going to church since his ma died, but he sent up a little prayer that it wouldn’t come to that. Even with the bicycle pumps, Steve felt a bit of a liability and his lung capacity certainly would be in that situation. He’d caught lucky with his team though; no one complained.

The tanks kept them busy all morning. Once the inflatables been taken down and set back up enough to satisfy the agents, they went over how to tether and move the decoys so that the illusion was maintained. All the while, Carter and Phillips circulated, watching them like hawks. 

Any little reason Steve gave them to doubt his value to the mission and he would be stuck here forever. So he worked with every thing he had and turned down the guys attempts to take over early for him. He couldn’t even afford any appearance he was falling behind or not pulling his weight.

Their lunch break was barely enough time to stuff their faces, let alone catch their strength back before they started on other types of equipment. Fortunately, this time around they skipped the bicycle pumps. Steve supposed that had been more to prove a point, but he did wish they could have done it on these much smaller artillery dummies instead. His arms felt like Jell-O. Given the way some of the others were fumbling their tasks, he probably wasn’t the only one.

Around the time Steve was wishing fondly for dinner, the agents had them move all the various dummies they had set up to form a false camp. Then they trudged up the same hill Steve had been enjoying yesterday and looked down on the scene they had set. It was surprisingly believable, even without any coloring on the dummies. From the air, it might just fool someone.

Apparently it was not finished though, as Agent Carter had them all line up and scour it carefully. At that point, Steve’s attention had a whole lot less “snap to” than usual, but he forced himself to focus. He had kept up well enough today, but it had exhausted him and he needed to distinguish himself with these mental tasks.

“Who can tell me what is missing from this scene?” She asked, still sounding and looking as crisp as this morning despite a whole day on her feet in the sun.

None of them had time to come up with anything though before Hodge was calling out, "What's missing is a place for you an' I to cozy up with a drink, sweet lips."

The look Carter fixed on Hodge was an impressive combination of unruffled and punishing. Every other man, Steve included, was trying to get as much distance from him as possible without moving their feet from the line. He knew that look from his, ma; there would be hell to pay. Phillips stepped towards them like he was fixing to read Hodge the riot act, but Carter held up her hand and he backed off.

"What is your name, soldier?" She asked as she drew up opposite him.

"Gilmore Hodge, Your Majesty." 

Steve couldn't see Hodge from where he was standing, but his voice sounded like every guy in a bar he'd ever seen get smacked across the face. For her part, Carter deliberately looked Hodge over from head to toe, distinctly unimpressed.

"Well, I'm afraid Hodge that you won't find a single place on this planet where I could be persuaded to get a drink with you, so you'll have to do without."

Steve turned to look at Kelly beside him, who raised his eyebrow in agreement. Agent Carter was a woman to be reckoned with.

"Do any of the rest of you have anything actually valuable to offer?" 

It took a moment to recover from the distraction, but Steve returned his gaze to the scene below. Mentally, he compared the image before him to the real aerial shots they had in their pamphlets, and tried to imagine himself as the enemy scouting their position. There had to be something--he need this.

"Treads," he blurted as soon as the thought crossed his mind. 

Carter's gaze snapped to him, but she looked minutely pleased rather than irritated by his outburst. "What about treads Private--?"

"Rogers, Ma'am. Private Steve Rogers. Even on ground this solid, the tanks would have left tracks and flattened the grass and on soft terrain you would be able to see the imprint of tread. The enemy could tell these weren't driven here." 

"Good catch, Rogers," Carter replied with a quick nod.

There was only a split second before she turned back to the group to press for more answers, but Steve caught it. The ever so slight uptick at the corner of her mouth. It was only a small accomplishment, but if Steve could keep them up, he would show everyone they'd be fools to leave him behind.

xxx

For every little victory though, a new failure cropped up. One day he noticed that the guns would look more convincing if they covered them like they would the real ones, and the next day he lost his grip on a tank dummy in a strong wind and had to chase across the field to everyone’s amusement. Any little bit of approval from Carter was tempered by Phillips’s stern glare. Steve might have been sharp, but he still looked weak.

His next real chance came when it was time to design how to paint the currently monochromatic inflatables to actually look like they equipment they mimicked. If he could have his selected, that ought to leave a strong impression where all his other triumphs had been fleeting.

The pattern needed to be simple enough to copy, but still believable at a distance. Steve grabbed every rare free moment sketching the tank from the hill, then working his observations into a finalized plan late at night. 

The other guys gave him a hard time for working so much on something that was optional, but he brushed them off. They didn’t get that he needed to prove himself; some of them were openly trying to stay assigned here. Steve supposed safe was good, especially if you had a family. But the closest thing he had left to family was already overseas, and he wasn’t about to play the doting wife waiting at home. 

Five days later, he was showing the guys how to paint his pattern on the dummies.

Once they were all started, he focused on his brushstrokes, the soothing regular movements that gradually filled a section with uniform color. Steve didn’t have to try to stay ahead of the group today; he’d already left his mark on this task. After days of hustling, he could let himself have this—the idle chatter, Dum Dum’s loud jokes, all mixed up with the soft _shick, schick_ of brushes on rubber.

“I’m telling ya, if I don’t get some leave to spend some time with a lady, I think my johnson might fall off.”

Hodge. How was he always around to ruin things? He could have been working on the other end of the field, but no, he was painting the dummy right behind Steve. Sure, they were all probably a little frustrated by this point, but Hodge was persistent in sharing his feelings on the matter.. 

Steve tried his best to block him out and enjoy what should have been a good day. No one was even responding to Hodge beyond the rare, uncomfortable nod, he just couldn’t take the hint to shut his damn trap.

“It’s getting so bad, I might even think of takin’ on that shrew, Carter. Bet those lips would look much better around my—”

The punch connected with the hard edge of Hodge’s jaw, leaving Steve’s knuckles throbbing. Still, the way Hodge stumbled back and bounced off the inflated tank was gratifying. Everyone who’d noticed the altercation laughed as he pushed himself off and came away covered in paint.

Hodge wasn’t humbled though, he was seething.

Just as Steve readied himself to fight back, Kelly stepped between them, his arms outstretched. They did pause for a moment at that, long enough for Steve to realize that Dum Dum was at is side. It was good, having someone to get his back again. He probably would have ran his mouth anyways, but it gave him extra confidence to snap, “Learn some respect, Hodge.”

His anger renewed, Hodge launched himself back at them. Kelly didn’t try to actually hold them back, but rather stepped out of the way once it was clear words weren’t going to settle them down. The three of them grappled, oblivious to the crowd around them.

“What is going on here going on here?” Phillips’s shout startled them into springing apart, as if that could hide what they’d been doing.

Belatedly, Steve realized there fight had drawn everyone’s attention, including Philips and the three SSR agents. Hodge immediately started trying to get himself out of it.

“It was Rogers, sir. He punched me out of nowhere.” 

“That’s not true!” Steve had meant to keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t let people think he went around attacking guys for no reason. “Hodge was speaking in a very disrespectful way about Agent Carter and I— “

His own voice was lost in the din as the other guys shouted their own accounts, mostly supporting that Hodge had deserved it, though some saying Steve had lost his temper unreasonably. They all continued to talk over each other until finally Agent Carter hollered over them all.

“That is enough. There’s no need for you to be starting fights. I assure you I can defend my own honor.” She looked pointedly at Steve, but she didn’t quite seem angry at him. Was she enjoying this? “ Here, let me demonstrate—Hodge?”

Smirking, he stepped up to her. “Yes, _Agent_?

A brief glint in her eye was all the warning she gave before nailing him with a mean right hook. The crowd let out a low hiss when Hodge pulled his hand away from his nose, covered in blood.

Carter ignored him, and turned back to Steve and Dum dum, wiping her hands on her skirt. Steve was certain she had enjoyed throwing that punch as much as he’d enjoyed watching it. “You see?”

Steve could only manage an impressed nod, but Dum Dum said with a smile, “that I do Agent, that I do.” With that, she strode confidently off the field, every single pair of eyes tracking her retreating form.

“Alright, what are you all waiting for? Get back to it. You three—” Phillips pointed at Steve Dum Dum, and Hodge, “—My office, after dinner”

Discouraged, Steve turned back to his painting. One step forward, two steps back—again.

Beside him, Dum Dum said low, “I still say it was worth hitting the bastard.”

Kelly stepped in to work on the gun and added, “Yeah, and _Jesus_ that Carter has an arm on her. I’m staying on her good side, that’s for sure.”

They all chuckled under the breath. At least Steve would have that mental image, when he was stuck here for the rest of the war.

xxx

The week of scrubbing everything in sight was at least improved by Dum Dum’s company this time, but steve was still frustrated with himself. Losing his temper like that may well have ruined his chances just when they were starting to improve.

The days flew by and the opportunities to redeem himself in Phillips’s eyes out were rare. When the time came for new orders, he was sure it hadn’t been enough, _He hadn’t been enough._

“That’s it men. Our ship leaves the dock in two days, and Agent Carter here assures me you’re ready. So listen up for your new company assignments—A through D will deploy with the sonic and radio units for deception campaigns in Europe, E will continue with our current camouflage production here.”

Phillips started announcing assignments alphabetically and Steve’s gut sank. He had a long way to go to ‘Rogers,’ but Steve already knew what was going to follow it. If anyone was staying behind, it was going to be him. 

The only thing he’d really proven in the last few weeks was that he was good at camouflage design. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing for getting overseas. They probably wanted to keep him here, just painting. He tried telling himself, this would be okay, it was still contributing, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

Drearily, he watched the others split off and barely perked up his ears after “Pfc. Reamer, D” to hear “Private Rogers, C.”

Stunned, Steve nearly fell in his haste to get to the company. He hadn’t been paying attention to the assignments before, but now he can see most of they guys he’d been working with waiting with his company Dum Dum and Kelly included. Even better, Hodge had been assigned to stay behind. 

Smiling, Kelly clapped him on the shoulder and teased“come on now Rogers, you didn’t think they’d leave their best set of eyes behind?” 

Steve put on his best show of confidence, slugging Dum Dum jokingly in the arm. “Nah, just shocked they stuck me with you low-lifes.” 

It has the desired effect, making them laugh and turn their attention to ragging on each other. They were a good group of guys, if a bit of an odd mix. Tinge of regret, Steve thought of how Bucky would have fit in well with them, joking and roughhousing. He could almost see them, when this was all over, relaxed and drinking in a bar with the guys, then stumbling back to their place to fall into bed together. They had a hell of a job to do first, but it was good to have something to work towards.

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was a bit of a beast. Lots of people to meet and exposition while trying to bring in some conflict to keep it interesting. Hope it worked out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's feet finally hit European soil. Fighting a war is a lot scarier and a lot weirder than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably the one closest to historical fiction and wooo boy, it was a struggle. I am by no means an expert in WWII or the military in general, so I tried mostly to create an atmosphere and not get too bogged down in specifics. Hopefully that works for you. 
> 
> A lot of the little anecdotes as Steve is working in the beginning come from the Ghost Army documentary. I was also hoping to have more real artists make cameos in this, but they were distracting from the story, and I felt weird veering into RPF territory. So we just have Ellsworth Kelly, who I felt a bit more comfortable with, as he has passed and is actually the sexuality portrayed here (but there's no sex, just discussion of it). Still, maybe give the section a skip it that squicks you.
> 
> No art and no betas for this Chapter, so just enjoy folks!

They shipped out, and Steve discovered a whole new way for his body to mess with him. He’d lost most of the weight he’d put on in basic and Dum Dum had been slipping him extra food from his rations once it would stay down. Steve had tried to refuse of course, but he couldn’t fight against Dum Dum’s dogged geniality and insistence that he had plenty of bulk to spare. 

It did settle down after a while, maybe he’d ‘gotten his sea legs’ or it was one of the guys thirty or so crazy remedies, but it did. 

Once that had cleared up though, life at sea was patently dull. Their main duties on board were to keep themselves and their equipment battle-ready and to stay out of the way of the crew. So, they waited.

They’d been in sight of England for days, and still—they waited.

As their convoy bounced offshore, more ships joined them. Whispers got louder, fights broke out over card games, and still—they waited.

Finally, word got around that the Allies were setting up to invade France, and soon. A week ago, Steve might have said he was nervous to be taking on the Germans with nothing but his side arm, a knife, and some blow-up artillery, but now he was starting to feel he’d take on the whole Axis himself if it got him off this damn boat.

A few days after the chatter picked up, the official orders came out. A fake landing force would likely be met with too much resistance and be exposed easily. So the majority of the 603rd Camouflage Engineers would still be staying behind. Instead the bluff was to be mostly by the sonic and radio deception units. 

Steve had listened for his name in the list of men launching, but it seemed he would only get one miracle. He’d barely made it on this boat; he certainly shouldn’t have expected to qualify for the first line. While those who would be departing had rushed to get their packs in order, Steve joined the rest of men in skulking back to their bunks.

It would still be some time until the real landing took place, whenever that was. First the Germans had to put together the false information, then move their troops towards that and presumably away from the true invasion. Steve tried to take solace that an end to his imprisonment on this floating tin can was in sight. If the invasion was successful, they would have plenty to do on the ground.

So, there was a light at the end of this tunnel, but it was hard to keep that in mind when Steve had just counted the exact number of coils in the springs supporting Dum Dum’s bunk for the thirty-fifth time. 

xxx

There was no time to kiss the dirt, or rather the mud, when they did finally touch land. With the adrenaline and a strong desire to get out of the rain, it they all moved at top speed. It could have been any other day back at base. Except for the sonic unit playing the sound of a real infantry division moving in, Steve barely noticed the difference.

It hit him late that night. He was in a war zone— camped out with hardly more than an illusion of weapons to protect him. 

In the dark, his ears strained to ear beyond the snores of the men around him. Every rustling of leaves, every creak in the branches, snapped him out of what light sleep he could find.

Everything about this plan suddenly seemed impossible. He lay awake, certain they’d be discovered any moment, but in the morning everything was as they left it. The charade had worked.

xxx

It kept on working. They held their initial position unchallenged until the armored division arrived with actual tanks to hold the line. Picking up and moving to a new position proved equally uneventful.

Steve breathed a little deeper, stopped clutching his gun so often, and started pulling his sketchbook out of his pack.

xxx

When they took up a position closer to a town, they got to put on a different kind of theater. 

It was a hoot, dressed himself as a Lieutenant, watching Dum Dum play at being a two-star general and ordering up the best whiskey at the local tavern. It also seemed to improve the tempers of most of the guys to have women around to impress with their false ranks and over-blown war stories. 

That obviously wasn’t quite up Steve’s alley, but there were other ways to keep entertained. He was an artist in France, after all. He might never get another chance to capture the red-roofed houses tucked in rolling hills or the bunches of grapes clinging to rows of trellised vines. 

He got everything down that he could, even folding some sketches up and sending them off to Bucky.

_I’ve never seen a flower like this back home._

_God, you should have seen the size of this cow._

_I feel like such a city-boy. Do you ever miss all the noise? It seems odd, but I do._

Dumb stuff, that Bucky probably wasn’t even reading, but it still felt nice to imagine telling him. It almost felt like a vacation, writing letters to home

xxx

Their luck couldn’t hold forever.

The blast that woke him sounded like it was right on top of them. Steve sprung to his feet before his eyes were even fully open. Around him, the rest of the men were doing the same.

The earth shook again. Now that he was awake, Steve could tell that the hit wasn’t actually in the camp, but _fuck_ was it ever loud. Nothing they’d ever trained with sounded like this did.

“They’re bombing the tanks! Let’s go—defensive positions.” Kelly was yanking on his arm, but Steve hadn’t even seen him come up. How long had he just been standing there?

Stopping to think about it wasn’t really an option right then. Once he’d been jolted back to reality, he was across the camp down in his hole before the fourth strike flashed in the darkness. Gripping his gun, Steve cast about frantically for any sign of a ground attack.

The faint moonlight illuminated the men around him, their heads poking out of the ground like odd melons, but that was all. No bodies on the ground, no advancing enemy.

xxx

They stayed put until dawn, held upright a first by adrenaline then slumping into the walls of their foxholes as it became more likely the threat was passed. 

The the field where they’d set the dummies was pockmarked with craters, while those few decoys still intact were strewn around upended like the discarded toys of some giant child. 

Conceptually, Steve knew it was a victory. The Germans believed their ruse well enough to call in an airstrike, but it was also so close. As far as he knew, no men had been injured in the attack, but if they had targeted their real camp, there would have been nothing to he could do.

Steve had imagined being a soldier to involve more fighting back. Instead, his lot was to play the sitting duck, so the other guys, guys like Bucky, had a better chance at making. He could see the nobility in that, but that didn’t mean all this destruction was easy to look at.

“Good thing they did this at night.” Dum Dum appeared beside Steve as he surveyed the damage. 

“Hmm?” Steve responded, not fully pulled from his thoughts.

“Can you imagine what it looks like when one of those things takes a hit? A little hole and then, _wooooo!”_ Dum Dum snaked his hand about wildly to indicate the trajectory of a punctured inflatable tank. “That’d give us away, huh?”

Steve laughed, long, loud, and maybe a touch hysterical, but it shook out the nerves. They headed out together to see what could be salvaged.

xxx

Fifty new tanks popping up in the same spot would raise some eyebrows with the Axis aerial surveillance, so they had to pick up and move the next day.They stopped off in a little town to fake a caravan by driving the same six trucks through on a loop switching out guys each time. 

Other than that, things were quiet and they stayed that way mostly as they moved from place to place. The dummies did take more fire, and each time it set Steve’s teeth back on edge. 

The unit itself on the other hand, had stayed quite lucky. It made Steve a little nervous he might jinx it just thinking it, but no one in the unit had been hit with anything more than flying mud yet.

The divisions that came in to take over though, you could tell just by looking at them, that wasn’t the case. Steve avoided them in those brief periods where they shared camp. 

He didn’t want to imagine Bucky with those same hollowed out eyes, those slumped shoulders. The few letters he’d gotten before had been upbeat in a way that was clearly covering for something now that Steve had seen the front.

He didn’t feel much like sketching, thinking about that, even though that was ostensibly why he and Kelly had gone out into the woods around camp in the first place. Instead, his own page sat blank while Kelly copied down the leaves of a vine.

Steve often found his own drawings didn't quite look right until he put in shading, but Kelly could make a contour drawing so clear an expert could identify the species of the plant. It was mesmerizing.

“You’re not going to sketch?” Kelly asked, not quite looking up from his work.

“Oh, I…” Steve struggled at how to explain himself. It felt like there was some code— don’t talk about how scared you are, man up. “just a bit on edge, can’t seem t’focus.”

“Do you wanna…” Kelly reached his hand across to Steve’s knee, as casual as could be. “...blow off some steam, take your mind off of things?”

Steve froze. Was he really suggesting what he thought? Out in the open, where any of the guys decide to come by? This had to be some awful trick, there was no way Kelly could know about him. “I don’t think…”

“You saying you aren’t interested?”Kelly pushed, “because, I see you staring at me.”

Steve racked his brain, trying to determine if this was true. Kelly was a reasonably good looking man when he considered it, but he certainly hadn’t been considering it before now. He wasn’t interested in messing around behind Bucky’s back, especially when it could get him a blue discharge.

“I’m watching you draw, ya idiot,” Steve finally managed, forcing a laugh and shoving Kelly’s hand off like this was all a joke. “I can’t ever make anything of my line drawings.” 

Steve had hoped he would take the change of subject, but Kelly was already panicking. “Look, uh, please don’t say anything to anyone. I’ll leave ya alone, promise,” he stammered.

“No, look, you weren’t totally wrong but I—” 

Telling Kelly this was still a risk. Lots of guys who’d turn to each other when it was more convenient would swear up and down that didn’t make them queer. Looking at his nervous face though, Steve didn’t think that was the case. 

For the first time he was reminded that Kelly was actually much younger than him, even if he was bigger. It might be nice for him to know he wasn’t alone in this. Steve certainly would have appreciated it himself.

“I have...someone. I’m not gonna step out on them. So thanks, but no thanks.”

“You have a fella?” Kelly sounded almost hopeful. Steve had made the right decsion.

“Yeah, he’s over here somewhere.” He gestured out to indicate the European continent in general. “That’s why I worry so much. I barely heard from him since we got over here.”

“Oh that’s...do you want to tell me about him?” 

Steve found that he really did. 

xxx

They didn’t dare talk about it again, but it relieved the burden a bit. Steve managed a few weeks like that, working and actually enjoying his free time, before everything came crashing down.

It had been pouring rain for days, so much so that, even tucked up under shelter, Steve’s feet were sunk in the mud. He was sketching himself this time, but all muscled up like Superman, hoisting a real tank over his head.

“I heard about that incident, you know,” came a voice from over his shoulder.

“Agent Carter.” Steve popped up to salute as soon as he recognized her, but then chucked at the memory of the incident. “I’m not sure those cyclists believed Dum Dum that Americans are just _that_ strong, but there wasn’t much to do once they’d seen me carrying it.” 

“Yes well, the combat engineers are reviewing their security protocols. So, hopefully it won’t happen again.”

“Is that why you’re here? I didn’t even know you were on the continent.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me Rogers. “ She replied with a small smile. “I may help with that now that I’m in the area, but the real concern is that the the 107th infantry, was captured on its way to take this position and now we’ll need to hold it for much— ” 

“Did you say the 107th?” Steve blurted out, barely restraining himself from gripping her shoulders.

“Yes, but why—” 

But Steve didn’t even hear past the first word of her response before he was charging off towards the command tent.

Captured. 

In a few days they might have gotten to see each other, if only briefly, but instead, this. He wanted to scream. Could he not have one good thing in his life?

xxx

Steve was just letting the rain soak into him now; he was numb. Phillips couldn’t even be bothered to look up from his typewriter, and Bucky was languishing as a POW somewhere barely out of reach. They wanted to leave him and the others there there, hope that he made it to the end of the war, and Steve couldn’t do anything about it.

He jerked open the sketchbook he was still carrying and crumpled up the drawing from earlier. He wasn’t Superman. He was barely even a regular man and powerless to save the last person on this goddamn planet he could call family.

“He’s really important to you, the man you asked Phillips about.” 

Agent Carter had snuck up behind him again, this time shielding them both with an umbrella. Her curls were still impossibly immaculate.

He didn’t know why he told her—they hardly knew each other, but the grief loosened his tongue.

“Bucky and I, we grew up together—shared an apartment back home. I—“ Steve caught himself before the words slipped out. They rarely said them to each other, even in private, but it was no less true. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

Carter considered that for a moment and Steve stared down at the ball of paper in his hands. He didn’t want to hear her sympathies; he didn’t want to have to admit that Bucky was all but lost.

“I might be able to help you.”

“What?” Steve looked back up at her in surprise. “How? _Why?”_

A sly smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Meet me back here, say twenty-three hundred tomorrow, combat ready, and I’ll tell you what I can.”

This was certainly an even more ridiculous idea than joining up with this unit in the first place, but this was also for Bucky. He’d had Steve’s back in every way possible since they were kids. 

“I’ll be there.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having Agent Carter's support is better than nothing, but they're still looking at some terrible odds.

Steve tried his best to avoid the other guys before his meeting with Carter. People were starting to talk about the the 107th getting captured, and he couldn’t remember if he’d told Kelly that was Bucky’s unit. 

He wished he could tell the guys. They’d at least have snuck him a drink or two to steady his nerves. Dum Dum was just crazy enough, he might have even tried to come along if Steve mentioned this unsanctioned rescue attempt. 

The risk was too great. They might not have turned him in deliberately, but any little slip could give them away and he didn’t want them implicated if it came to that. 

As it was, Agent Carter had not given him permission to bring anyone else along. He had no interest in ever crossing her, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it with Bucky’s fate in the balance.

So he held his tongue, and hoped he didn’t look too suspicious doing it until the appointed hour.

xxx

The Agent Carter he met in the dark that night was nearly unrecognizable. Her sharp dress uniform was replaced with dark combat gear, her hair was pulled back, and there wasn’t a trace of her usual bright red lipstick. 

When she spotted him, her face broke into a full on grin. 

“You came.” Her voice was pitched low to avoid attracting attention, but her excitement was evident.

“I’m a man of my word, and this is important to me.” 

“Let’s go, then. I’ve stashed a truck but we’ll have to walk a bit. I’ll explain on the way.” She turned and headed for the treeline with gusto, waving for him to follow.

Steve did, finding her apparent confidence catching. When they’d gotten far enough out of camp to risk talking again, he asked “So, why are you doing this?

”I don’t suppose you’d believe I just want to help you get your friend back?” She glanced sideways at him, smirking a bit.

“No, I don’t think we’re quite at the ‘go AWOL and risk your life’ level of friendship. Though I am startin’ to wonder if you’re doing it for the thrill.”

“It’s true they don’t let me get out like this much, but…” She trailed off, considering what she could tell him. “I cannot give you details, but I have good reason to suspect that the base where they are holding the 107th is much more than a POW camp. I’ve been pushing the SSR for months, but they won’t help me investigate further”

Steve waited, but when she didn’t continue he added, “so when you foun=nd a guy crazy enough to help you out…”

“I’d rather call you motivated.” She chuckled a bit. “But, yes I am using you a bit. The plan needed another person, and this way we both get what we want, right?”

Steve shrugged. So long as this got Bucky out, he didn’t care if he was being ‘used.’ Instead he asked, “So, what is this plan you needed me for?”

“Patience, Rogers. We’ll go over it when we meet the rest of the group.”

xxx

“Howard Stark?” Steve asked incredulously. “Howard Stark is the rest of your team?”

“And his associate, Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy said with an amused tone, pointing to the tall man leaning against the open door of the plane.

“I’m sorry, have we met Private...?” Stark offered his hand to Steve.

“Steve Rogers, and we haven’t. I saw you at the Expo though before I left.”

“Oh yeah, how’d you like it?” Stark replied, lighting up as if he’d just been waiting for the chance to talk about his work.

“Mostly,” Steve said dryly, “I’m just hoping this plane flies better than your car did.”

“Ooh, where’d you find this one Pegs? I like him.” Stark threw his arm over Steve’s shoulder, pulled him towards the plane, and kept talking without waiting for Agent Carter to answer. “Now let’s go over what we’re going to do here.”

xxx

The plan was straightforward for all it was completely unlikely to work, just setting up a diversion for Stark to run while he and Agent Carter could slip in unnoticed. Once they were in the air though, Steve noticed a major flaw.

“You know I’ve never jumped out of a plane before, right?”

Both Carter and Stark looked up from where they were fastening an elaborate array of straps to their persons, then glanced at each other in clear indication that they had not thought of that.

“Ah, no worries Stevie,” Stark replied with a concerning laugh, “we’ll getcha squared away.” 

Five minutes later, her was waddling towards the door, strapped to Agent Carter’s front. “This seems undignified.”

“Yeah, but it’s much better than you going splat, don’t you think?” To punctuate his statement, Stark threw open the door. 

The immediate effect was dizzying. Steve reflexively reached out to steady himself on the side of the plane but Carter was already stabilizing him. His feet back under him, Steve watched as the occasional shell burst illuminated the far trees below them. At this height, the world hardly looked real. The occasional shake of the plane was the only thing convincing him that this all wasn’t just going by on a movie screen.

“May I suggest you disembark shortly?” Jarvis shouted from the front of the plane. “I don’t wish to chance a hit any longer than necessary.”

“You’ve got it, Mr. Jarvis.” Stark gave a little salute, tossed out their extra pack of supplies, and was gone.

Then, without so much as a ‘Ready?’, Steve was flying through the air too. His stomach lurched, but the parachute caught them almost immediately. The pace was reassuring after the initial shock of free fall, but once a round buzzed them, Steve wished they’d just get to the ground as fast as possible.

xxx

Once they’d disentangled themselves, Steve and Carter quickly closed the distance to their rendezvous point. Stark was already there, setting speakers up from the pack and tossing Steve a bag full of black boxes with little lenses on them. “Spread these around, get a good distance between them.”

He started on his task, turning one of the boxes over in his hands. “Whadda these things do anyways?”

“Hit that little button on the top.” Stark flapped his hand at Steve without looking away from his wiring.

“Whoa!” Steve jumped back as a three-dimensional advancing tank all but materialized in the air in front of him. “You’ve been holding out on us. Why aren’t we using these instead of lugging those big rubber things?”

“Well each one of those costs about fifteen grand. Proprietary prototypes, like these miniature speakers here. ”

Steve froze, then lower the projector he’d been examining gingerly to the ground and stepped away like he might break it with his mere presence.

“Besides,” Stark picked up a rock and lobbed it at the tank image. It went clear through. “That’d be a dead give away when you actually got fired on. Hopefully, it won’t come to that tonight. I’ll turn them off and on remotely, get them chasing their tails.” He reached for a dial on a box with an antenna and the tank popped back out of view. 

“That’s enough Q&A boys, we’ve got work to do.” 

Steve shut his mouth and jogged off into the woods to complete his assigned task.

xxx

When he’d gotten the projectors as well spread out as he could without sacrificing time, Steve hurried back to their little base of operations and found his companions ready to move on. He and Peggy headed towards the base while Stark climbed for a good vantage point.

The woods were eerily still at this hour, leaving each crunch of their feet deafening in comparison. Given the hour, he should have been exhausted, but Steve found himself hyper-vigilant, constantly scanning for enemies and finding nothing there. 

They pulled up just as the lights of the base were starting to seep through the trees and radioed for Stark to start up the diversion. 

“Is this your first time in man-to-man combat?” Carter asked while they waited for the guards to catch on.

“Do back alley brawls count?”

“Depends,” she replied with a startled chuckle, “you ever win any of them?”

“Eh, I was better at startin’ them. Bucky usually had to finish ‘em.” 

“Well, I suppose that is what you have me for now.” She sighed, then her voice shifted to commanding. “Just stick to my six and do everything exactly as I say.” 

Steve pulled in a steadying breath— this was really happening. In the distance, the sound of vehicles on the move began to creep in. Even knowing that it was Stark’s machines, he nearly believed it. 

Carter waved him forward. “Let’s see if they’re buying it.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes, the perimeter guards checked their radios and a number of them jogged away, leaving only two in their line of sight. 

“Try not to fire unless you have to, the longer we go unnoticed, the better our chances.” She indicated the man nearest them. “We’ll take out that guard, then I’ll cover while you cut the fence”

“Understood.”

Carter signaled and they both ran full out for the fence. She got there first, launching herself and grappling with the man until she had him in a chokehold. Steve caught up a moment later, cracking him over the head with the butt of his pistol to speed things along. 

Without missing a beat, Carter dropped him and readied herself to take on the next man. It was a hell of a thing, seeing her in action, but Steve didn’t have time to watch. He got to work cutting the fence and trusted that she had them covered. 

They slipped through the fence without attracting further attention. Inside, the compound was surprisingly active, but all that commotion made it easier for them to slip between piles of crates unnoticed.

Getting into the building required only a few more confrontations, in which Steve mostly got to watch Carter work. She was only a bit taller than him, but she made up for her size with extreme precision. There was never a wild punch; every one of her strikes landed on her opponent's weak spots. Caught unaware, they were virtually defenseless against her.

Steve could easily see that Carter had been right about something bigger going on here. There were strange octopus symbols everywhere and all the weapons and machinery were glowing a strange blue. 

If any of this fazed Carter, she wasn’t letting on. They pushed through the main manufacturing area and down a winding hallway until they finally found the cells.

The urge to run to the bars and shout for Bucky nearly overtook him, but Steve fought it back. Carter took out the guard with a sucker-punch and tossed the keys to him.

“This is the end of the stealth part of the plan—fight your way out with these guys. I’ll use that cover to get whatever I can on these crazy weapons.” 

Steve had barely confirmed the order before she was halfway down the hallway. 

The men in the cells seemed well enough to make their plan work and he gave them the particulars as he worked his way from door to door. However, worryingly, none of them were Bucky.

Dread crept over him as he reached the end of the line.

Someone said “isolation ward” and “no one’s ever come back, and Steve was fighting to keep from throwing up. 

It should have felt good, saving all these men, but without Bucky—none of it mattered to him. He sprinted towards the isolation ward, desperate.

And then, like the most twisted and beautiful song, he heard it. 

xxx

He struggled with Bucky’s restraints, eventually resorting to slowly sawing through the thick material with his combat knife. From the sounds and the occasional shake of the building around them, it seemed the released men had gotten to the weapons. As the knife pulled through the last strap a blaring alarm joined the cacophony, but Bucky remained unmoving on the table.

Steve leaned over Bucky’s head, but his eyes were unfocused and his his lips trembled, still muttering “James Barnes….Sargent...Three...”

“Bucky, hey,” Steve shook his shoulder gently, “Buck, it’s me.”

“Steve?” When Bucky finally recognized him, a smile spread across his face like the sun after months in the rain. Steve wished he could bask in it for days. It had been so, so long.

“Steve?” Bucky repeated, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but wished like hell he could.

“It’s me yeah, c’mon.” He tried his best to haul Bucky off the table but stumbled under his weight. They tottered across the room until finally catching their balance, clutching tightly to each other.

Held close together like that, Steve couldn’t help pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s trembling lips. No one else was there to see. “Jesus, I thought you were dead.”

Bucky cracked a little smirk and said, “I thought the Army would make you bigger.”

Steve, chuckled and socked him gently on the shoulder. At least his Buck was still in there somewhere, despite—whatever had happened to him on that table. He shifted as much of Bucky’s weight as he could to his shoulder and started them towards the door. 

“Can’t make me any taller; it ain’t magic Bucky. Put on ten pounds though,” Steve grunted. It was too bad he wasn’t bigger, because they were getting nowhere fast with Bucky’s feet dragging on the ground. “Can you walk?”

“Maybe—just,” Bucky pushed up and steadied himself on Steve’s shoulders, “give me a few minutes.” 

Steve went to cover the door, but Bucky barely had time to heave a few deep breaths before the building shook even more violently.

“Sorry, doesn’t sound like we have a few minutes,” he said as he peered out. “Either the Army decided to actually send us some back up or that alarm might means some sort of self destruct.”

“What do you mean, ‘send back up’? How big is your team?”

“Uh…” Steve turned back to pull Bucky forward, “nevermind, we’ve gotta get out of here, now.”

“ _Nevermind?_ Steve!”

They hobbled towards the door, but before they could reach it, a massive beam collapsed, crashing across their path of exit. Both of them cursed, knocked on their butts by the shockwave. Steve left Bucky there on the ground and scrambled desperately about the room for another way out. 

Neither of them would fit over the beam and they were to high up to use the windows. 

“Shit!” They’d been so fucking close to having this all work, and now Steve was going to ruin it by getting them crushed. He looked back a Bucky and they both just stared at each other, wide eyed. 

Suddenly, a blue light filled the room and the wall to his left disintegrated. Steve brought his gun up, but it was Carter and not another guard on the other side.

“Who is that?” Marveled Bucky from the floor.

“My team.” Steve grinned and Peggy returned it.

“She seems pretty good, Stevie” Bucky nodded his head along like he had come to some great understanding, but didn’t move from the floor.

“Well, I appreciate the compliment, but it’s time to get a move on, boys. This place is coming down.” When that failed to incite movement, she rushed to hoist Bucky up off the floor.

“Yeah, we noticed,” Steve returned, getting his shoulder under Bucky’s other arm so they could both support him. “How’d you find us?”

“Camera monitors and the offices I was searching,” she gasped as they stumbled their way down to the ground floor.

“Did you find out what you needed?” 

“A good deal of it. Plus, bringing this back can’t hurt.” With that, she pointed the great glowing gun at the exterior wall and blasted it straight through. 

Together, they slipped out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a hell of a thing to write (as evidenced by [this post](https://justaphage.tumblr.com/post/147514331873/me-trying-to-write-my-sbb-fic-okay-now) oh so long ago). Everywhere I looked there was a thing in canon that would not work with skinny!Steve. hopefully you enjoyed the required addition of BAMF!Peggy and some bits of humor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to camp safe and sound doesn't exactly mean out of trouble for Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been reading along as this was posted, you may have missed the link I just added in the first chapter to the other lovely piece of art which [naomilasenby](http://naomilasenby.tumblr.com/) created for this fic. Check it out [here!](http://naomilasenby.tumblr.com/image/149646848054)

Those next few nights, on the long march back to camp, Steve found himself sitting up at watching Bucky sleep. He was unsettled, often mummering and tossing and turning. It was clear he’d be facing a long road to recovery, but was _here._

Having him back at his side after so long, and then fearing the worst, not even returning to the cheers of the whole camp could hold a candle to that. 

He didn’t really get to enjoying the cheering as it was, since he had to surrender to Phillips and he and Carter were immediately pulled away from the crowd, and Bucky. 

They waited, listening to the sounds of celebration in the distance while their fate was decided beyond a tent flat, in voices to hushed to be overheard. Peggy got a brief chance to share her intelligence without him, but she came back looking discouraged.

It dragged on even after some officers came out, carefully avoiding their eyes. Phillips was probably on the phone; something like this would have to be discussed way up the chain of command. Yet while Steve understood that, the stress of waiting made him fidget like a toddler in church.

When Phillips did finally call them in, the sun was fading from the sky and the jubilation of their comrades gone with it. Steve pulled himself up straight in front of his Captain. Whatever happened to him, he could know he’d done right.

“You know I’m glad to see both you and the rest of those men alive.” Phillips’s expression hadn’t really changed from his usual scowl, so Steve would have to take his word on that. “But that was a hell of a stunt you pulled, and I can’t protect you from all the trouble we’re all about to be in. You’re both going home.”

“But, Sir—” Both Steve and Carter interjected simultaneously.

“No, do not start. You two tookhighly classified _defensive_ equipment and used it in an offensive strategy with a very high risk of capture, putting putting this program and _every single one of these men at risk._ ” 

He stared them down for a moment, daring them to contradict him, but neither spoke up. Steve had only considered the risk to him and the reward of keeping Bucky alive, while ignoring the larger strategy. 

“Still, you brought a lot of men home who probably wouldn’t have made it. So, Agent Carter, you’re being transferred to the New York office, and Rogers, I can make sure your discharge is honorable. Otherwise, fight me on this and you will be court-martialed, understood?”

There was a part of Steve that did still want to argue. The war was far from over; he could still contribute. For once though, he knew when he was licked. He looked to Carter and she nodded.

“Yes, Sir,” they said together.

“Good.” Phillips huffed and started sorting through papers on his desk. “Now get out of here, I’m sure there’ll be some celebrating before you all go home.”

Steve offered a quick “Thank you, Sir,” before slipping out of the tent and directly into a massive bear hug from Dum Dum. When his feet hit the ground again, he realized a whole bunch of guys from the 603rd were there waiting for them. 

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Carter asked in a tone of mock offense.

“Well, can you blame us? Our own Agent Carter and Steve Rogers, heroes.” Dum Dum clapped Steve proudly on the back. 

“Besides,” added Kelly, “you weren’t exactly keepin’ it down.”

“Then didn’t you hear? We’re not heroes. There sending us home—sweeping it all under the rug.”

“What they say doesn’t matter, Steve,” Agent Carter said, then indicated the group of them. “We know the truth, and so do they.”

It was certainly the noble route, but it hurt, to be told once again he wasn’t good enough to be here. Didn’t she feel that too?

“How are you okay with this?” He asked, “This never would have succeeded without you, and you may have brought back invaluable information about the enemiy’s weapons. You should be getting medals, leading your own team, inspiring superhero comics, but they’re gonna shut you up in some office back stateside!”

“That’s the way it’s always been for me. No one wants to believe the woman did it.” Carter gave a rueful chuckle. “But those men are home safe, and I still have a job. I can be happy with that; I have to be.”

The weight of her words held them all in silence for a moment. She was right, at least in that they couldn’t change what had been decided. Steve was alive, and _Bucky was alive;_ he could show some humility and just enjoy those two facts. 

“Weellll…” Dum Dum started, dragging the word out, “that is a bit of downer, but you guys still have some time to celebrate before they ship ya back, right?”

“I suppose we might as well, don’t you think?” Carter responded, turning to Steve.

It seemed the excuse to let her hair down for once was improving her mood. The results might be quite fun to watch, but Steve had other priorities right then. “I’ll catch up, I gotta check on Bucky first”

Most of the group looked confused at that, and for the first time, Steve remembered that they didn’t know. Only Carter was privy to the fact that he started all this for just one guy. He froze, wondering if there was anything he could say that wouldn’t give away.

Kelly though, stepped in to save him, saying casually, “Bring him around if he’s up to it. Now let’s go see if we can scare up some liquor in this muddy hell-hole,” and the mention of drinking was enough to distract the rest.

That day in the woods felt like it was years ago now, but Kelly must have remembered the name. Steve mouthed ‘thanks’ to him as the others retreated. 

xxx

Steve found Bucky in the infirmary, stretched out on his back in a clean pair of fatigues. He wasn’t moving, but he wasn’t sleeping either. His eyes stared upward, unmoved by the chaos around him.

For a moment, the terrible echo of finding Bucky strapped to that table froze Steve in his tracks, but this time Bucky sat up as soon as he stepped into his field of vision.

“What’s the verdict Buck?” Steve asked, sitting down on the bed beside him.

“Well, they said I’m still healthier than you’ve ever been, but apparently being tortured still earns me a trip home.” Steve flinched at the reminder of his friend’s suffering, but Bucky was already blowing past it.

“If you’re gonna be pulling crazy rescue stunts though, I don’t know if I should leave you over here unsupervised.”

“Hey! That ‘crazy stunt’ probably saved your life.” Steve laughed and jostled Bucky with his shoulder. “Besides, I’m going home too.”

“Really? I expected them t’give you a field promotion and some medal for bringing all those guys back.”

“Nah, seems like they agree with ya that it was a bit of a hairbrained scheme. Looks like we’re both gettin’ shipped back.”

Bucky’s head snapped over to look at Steve, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah?”

Their faces were so close, sitting side by side with their arms pressed up against each other. It was all they could have right now, surrounded by the bustling medical staff, but soon enough they would have the privacy of their own apartment.

Even better, they could go back with their heads held high. They’d both saved a lot of guys out there, and even if they couldn’t tell people about that, they could at least say they served with honor.

“Yeah,” said Steve, returning Bucky’s smile. “Let’s go home”

 

 

 

 

 

**EPILOGUE**

The evening this comic came out, Bucky came bursting in after work, waving a copy.

“What the hell is this Steve?”

“Oh, you got the comic, how does it look?” Steve asked, purposefully not looking up from where he was inking panels from the next issue.

“ _How does it look?_ Steve!” Bucky marched over, plopped the issue down on Steve’s desk, and pointed at Captain America’s masked companion. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Oh yeah, the execs wanted him to have a kid side-kick, ya know, Boy Wonder and all that crap.”

“Yeah, but... why did you make him _me?_ This is why you wouldn’t show me what you were working on!” Bucky accused.

“He’s not you.” Steve, feigned innocence, chuckling at the character’s obvious dark cowlick and dimpled chin.

“His name is _Lucky,_ Steve _!_ What’s his last name, _Larnes_?”

“Come off it, Buck. Larnes isn’t a name.” Steve struggled to maintain a serious expression.

“Admit he’s me.” Bucky stepped up close, poking one finger into his chest.

“Nope.” Steve turned away and picked up his brush like he was going to get back to work.

“Admit you made me into this dumb kid in your weird comic.” He stayed looming over Steve.

“Not a cha— AH!” Steve shrieked, his brush clattering to the floor as Bucky tossed him over his shoulder. 

Bucky jumped up and down, jostling Steve. “Say it!”

“No way!” Steve shouted back through is his laughter. He tried to squirm his way down, and when that failed, kicked a Bucky with his stocking feet. “You can’t make me!”

“Oh really?” A mischievous tone crept into Bucky’s voice. He clamped down on Steve’s kicking legs with his free arm and carried him towards their bedroom. “We’ll see about that.”

Steve was sure to lose this argument in the best way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and then, well, ya know...  
>  Or maybe you don't! Maybe I need to write this a smutty second epilogue ;-) 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for following along and reading my fic out of so many SBB fics. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Thanks also to all the people who encouraged me in this, my first time writing long fic on a deadline. It was rough, but I've learned a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is a quote from the PBS documentary "Ghost Army." Amazon took it off prime and I only had part of it written down, but approximately: one of the soldiers interviewed said that when he was told that if this works you may not be coming back, he replied "Okay, but I reserve the right to kick a little ass for myself if I choose." I thought that was a very Steve Rogers thing to say.
> 
> Come say hi/yell at me to polish this thing off by the deadline at [justaphage](http://justaphage.tumblr.com/)


End file.
